Under New Management
by inafrozenworld
Summary: Doumeki discovers that Watanuki is a changed person under ownership of the shop! Crack fic for chpt 185


**Under New Management**

Doumeki stepped into the shop, expecting to hear the same old voice screeching at him – _Take off your shoes!; Gah! I just cleaned that!; What are _you_ doing here? _– and heard nothing except the crinkle of the leaves on the trees outside, dried crisp in a chill autumn breeze. The noise seemed to echo about the shop, making it feel abandoned and empty. The familiar panelling, the yellowing paper and polished wood floors – they withheld the underlining musty scent, the thick taint of tobacco smoke and old things gone to rot: tarnished metal, fading paint and mottled parchment. But _her_ presence seemed surprisingly absent, leaving a pressing hollow it seemed within the shop.

However the shop was merely under new ownership.

He slipped off his shoes at the door, politely and neatly, set them square to the side and padded through to the lounge room with the old, padded chaise-lounge at the centre, a dusty, velvety red. And for a moment before he pulled aside the sliding door, he expected to see him decked in his usual cleaning outfit, pristine white, pedantically so, on his knees on the floor polishing the boards, grumbling about his employer as he did so and her secret slave-driver persona.

He was quick to remember, slowly shutting his eyes in steady acceptance and taking a shallow breath, his expression unmoving. Times had changed.

He slid open the door and he was there, lying there on the floor wearing a loose-fitting kimono, bottle in hand… Doumeki raised an eyebrow. Had he been -?

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the comatose figure suddenly sprang to life, at first raising his head near lethargically and then jumping, flailing his limbs in surprise. "D-D-D-D-D-Doumeki!" he eventually spurted before he collapsed in a heap on the floor again, chuckling to himself in what may easily have been classed a manic disposition.

Doumeki frowned. "Have you been up all night drinking?" he asked sternly, stepping forward to tower over the young man quivering in giggles.

"Y-y-yes!" Watanuki eventually managed to choke before his face was wiped clean of his grin, suddenly washed over with a sombre expression. He placed a hand to his heart and slurred, "I am the new pro-prop-proprietor of this shop and I will assume all its responsibilities!" He seemed to have forgotten he was holding the bottle in his left hand and now the remains of the liquid were slowly spilling down his clothes. Realising this he blinked and mumbled, "Oops," before tipping the rim to his lips to suck out what was left.

"By getting drunk and passing out on the floor?" Doumeki grumbled. He'd muttered it as low as usual though there was an angry hint in his voice, something furious trembling in his tone.

"This shop," Watanuki blurted, springing to sit upright in front of him, "is now under new mana-management and has a new shop motto." He held out a hand and starting striking off his floppy, inebriated digits. "W.W.Y.S.D. What would Yuuko-san do? And Yuuko would drink from three in the afternoon till –" He hiccupped "- seven in the morning."

Doumeki's frown slowly deepened as he realised. "How much did you…?"

"It's aaaaaall gone now!" Watanuki chuckled proudly to himself, nodded to himself with a smug smirk, a job well done. "Not that she left much…" He trailed off in a quiet and saddened voice…

There was a long and drawn-out silence sitting unsettlingly between them.

Doumeki finally broke through the pause. "What do you- ?"

And Watanuki interrupted him in a sharp, authoritative voice, waving the bottle above his head. "D-D-Doumeki! Bring me more sake!"

Doumeki gritted his teeth, ripped the empty bottle out of his hand. "No more sake! You've gone through three bottles already," he seethed.

"But it's only the morning!" Watanuki whined, grasping out pathetically for the empty bottle.

"You've drunk enough," Doumeki grumbled before he abruptly stopped. There was just the faintest sense of a twisted déjà-vu …

Watanuki ignored him, leaping energetically to his feet in what appeared to be a burst of life from his soggy and flimsy state.

"I've already started smoking and guess how many times I choked," he boasted to himself with a cruel little smirk on his face. He held out his fingers, pushing them into Doumeki's face. "Only th-THREEE times! Beat that, asshole."

"That's four," Doumeki corrected him with a concerned glare, poking his pinky finger down.

"I know, I know!" Watanuki screeched and stammered, whipping his hand away hastily, waving it about like he was shaking it dry. He recomposed himself, clearing his throat and returning to his stern and smug expression though the effect was offset by his swaggering, drunken stance. "So I drink sake and I smoke from a pipe! All I need is a cleavage to flash! But I don't know where to get one." He blinked confusedly.

Doumeki merely glared towards him, somewhere between stunned and disgusted, the strength of which barely showed on his face, though fortunately the sliding door to the side opened before he opened his mouth to speak.

"The Master needs to rest!" chimed one of the young girls pattering through from the side room.

"The Master needs to rest!" the other repeated, following her counterpart and clinging on to Watanuki's sleeve, the same worried expression blinking pleadingly up towards him.

"Lie down," Doumeki finally muttered, following the girls' lead and laying a hand against him shoulder, the three of them dragging his stumbling feet over to the chaise-lounge.

"Himawari-chan might know!" Watanuki sang gleefully as he was marched over, his limbs flailing and flopping before he collapsed on to the padding. Maru and Moru took the edges of a blanket in unison and pulled it over him caringly as he sang and giggled to himself.

Doumeki looked down on him furiously though not without concern, thinking over how much the shop had changed since she'd died. The term had a strange ring to it as though it were wrong and distorted; as if Yuuko were meant to be immortal. The truth sat unsteadily within Doumeki. So he supposed it would be even harder for this idiot…

A loud voice burst through into the room. "Watanuki is a terrible drinking partner!" Mokona protested, hopping over and perching on the arm-rest at his head, waving his stubby arms about and crying, "Mokona took the bottle off Watanuki and Watanuki threw up on Mokona!"

"The next Yuuko, eh?" Doumeki muttered as he glared down on the figure slipping steadily into sleep. He noted the other three gathered about Watanuki as if about a coffin, a morbid and reflective silence held between them and their eyes staring into him, looking towards him almost expectantly. He simply closed his eyes, accepting a certain protective role almost fatefully, something that needed to be done.

"You're stopping drinking and smoking," he ordered with as much force as he could muster though when he looked down Watanuki was already fast asleep, lost in an alcoholic slumber.

Doumeki grimaced. Idiot. He hadn't expected him to get into this big of a mess…

***

_**a/n: **__This is my first time writing for 'holic so I hope I got the characters right! It was written weeks ago as a piss-take of the latest chapter so it's a little late, I know, but since there hasn't been an update in a month, I was hoping the joke was still funny! Please review if you enjoyed it or have anything to say!_


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